The Sleep Chronicales
by PureFury
Summary: How we think Sherlock and John sleep and how they actually sleep.
1. The Ideal

Sherlock's arms were clasped around John whilst John's own arms were winding around the detective's torso. They clung tight, as though they feared letting go. The doctor's head rested against the chest of his partner as they slept. The rise and fall of Sherlock's chest only aiding to pulling John asleep.

Legs entwined, the boys breathing was the only sound to break the silence in 221B Baker Street. The smaller man's breath tickled at Sherlock's chest but over the years he'd grown accustomed to the sensation. Occasionally, Sherlock let out a slight muffled snore but it was rare; his sleep was simply too heavy.

The tall man shifted but his arms subconsciously pulled his partner closer to him, wanting to feel the heat against his cool skin. His head dropped down slightly so his cheekbone rested on the top of John's salt and pepper hair. Their height difference meant nothing when John had the leverage he gained in lying down.

The doctor would mumble in his sleep. Probably because he could never usually get enough time speaking when he accompanied the consulting detective around town. Even in sleep, his body was trying to make up for his limited communication; not that the man minded, he enjoyed listening to his partner.

They clung to each other like a lift raft as they'd faced one too many cases that came close to ending in disaster over the past months. Loosing Sherlock for the two years after the fall kept John close and holding tight.

Sherlock buried his nose into John's hair and breathed in his scent. It always comforted him and it guided his dreams into pleasantness.

The flat was quiet and the boys were cosy. Their embrace was tight and love flowed within their home. They remained close as they needed each other; they balanced each other and they both knew that


	2. The Truth

Sherlock slept like a starfish, his arms and legs reaching for all four corners of the large double bed. Head lolled back on the pillow, he slept with his mouth wide as though he was catching flies. Snores, loud and distinct, leaked from his throat and echoed throughout the flat; being the cause of lack of sleep amongst a few other residents of Baker Street.

He would twitch and spasm as his muscles jerked and refused to remain motionless, putting any bed-mates at risk of a black eye or being thrown overboard onto the solid floor. The blanket would often be kicked off in these spasming moments or he'd wake with the duvet covering his head and not legs from movement.

The genius, so accustomed to speaking non-stop during the day, would speak clear and concise during the later hours. On rarer occasion, he'd cry out an imagined deduction, waking John in the process. His words made complete sense as he spoke them but the sentences would flick through topics.

His black curls seemed to defy gravity as they bent into weird angles and reached out like Medusa's. It also branched down over a fraction of his face. His features were slack and relaxed, leaving him looking like he was unconscious from alcohol.

John, in the small featus position he chose to sleep in, was curled in the gaps left by Sherlock. The small ball would toss and turn throughout the night as his mind struggled to turn off.

Nightmares plagued him as flashbacks appeared almost nightly making the doctor jerk and cry out in his sleep. He'd often find himself screaming, waking up himself, Sherlock, Mrs Hudson as well as anyone within a close range. The sound would rip him from the dreams and Sherlock would wipe away his tears whilst holding him close to comfort him.

He didn't sleep constantly anyway. Every few hours, John would wake up due to nothing but his own brain and the world outside 221B would be silent and dark. He'd sigh and curl back up ready to face the challenge of falling unconscious again.

The two men slept independently of each other as they didn't need to be reassured of their closeness. They both had their problems in the nighttime but they knew the other was there, always.


End file.
